


Obedience

by orphan_account



Category: Diablo (Video Game)
Genre: Itherael is mentioned, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8221594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Imperius takes a lesson in "chilling out"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> rated high for the second half which is, you guessed it, porn  
> [I wonder why I write so much of the stuff, sheesh.]

“Too loose,” the archangel of Valor mumbled, tipping his chin up. Slender, beautiful hands gently tightened the leather collar, slipping two fingers underneath to check.

“Better?”

“Yes.” He slumps a bit, leaning into those hands more. They’re so delicate and soft and Imperius sighs heavily, wings drooping as he settles into the touches to his covered face. He’s thankful nobody else knows about this.

“Mm-mm, forgot something.” There's a click and Imperius wants to whine, the leash hanging from his collar limply. Malthael holds the loop at the end loosely, and gives a smile with his wings. “Come on, now.” He gently tugged the leash, the much larger archangel standing fluidly and going close to the embodiment of Wisdom. “Remember our little deal?”

“Yes,” he groans, annoyed that it’s brought up.

“Don't be like that.” A stern tug to the leash and he hisses in a gasp. “Let's go. Behave, you.” Malthael points up at the ornate helmet, which rolls one way, then the other.

“I will.”

\------

Malthael seems so pleased with himself, seated neatly in Imperius’s throne. It's much too large for his slender frame, and he hardly takes up any of it. Valor itself is kneeling just in front, sulking as he watches for any others. He closes his eyes and prays silently to whoever is listening that nobody walks in on this embarrassing display.

Naturally, his hopes are smashed and then his wounds salted when Tyrael walks in, stopping short at the sight of Imperius on his knees with a leash, one that’s held by Malthael himself, sitting in the regal throne of the boisterous golden archangel.

“By the light-!” He wheezes, hand jumping to his hidden face.

“ _ Tyrael _ , I ought to-” Imperius leaps to his feet, ready to attack, but chokes a bit and drops back to his haunches when Wisdom pulls him to heel.

“Ah-ah,” the eldest scolds, “you aren't an attack dog.” Valor gives a low noise as he kneels again, glowering viciously at Justice. Tyrael seems to want to laugh aloud, but keeps it to himself as he looks over to Malthael. The elder Archangel seems supremely satisfied with himself, wings hiked up in pride.

“What exactly is this about?” There’s still a hint of laughter there, and Wisdom sniffs in annoyance.

“A deal. Do not worry yourself with it.” There's a noise off to the side and the three look over to see Itherael gape, scroll dropped and forgotten. They stand like a statue, seemingly unaware of the pairs of eyes fixed on them.

“My sibling, are you well?”

“Yes, I think so,” the archangel mumbles, seeming to find their wits and pinch themselves.

“This is not a dream,” Imperius says with a huff. Malthael says nothing, but gives a firm pull to the leash that makes the younger shut up.

“You haven't interrupted anything, Itherael,” Wisdom soothes, watching Fate fumble to pick up their dropped scroll.

“I'm sorry for walking in, interruption or no.”

“I accept your apology.” A small nod, and they fly out, clutching the scroll and their hood as they flutter away.

“You know, Imperius,” Tyrael starts, ignoring the warning look he receives from the eldest in the room, “you're far more tolerable with someone keeping you in line. I appreciate it, Malthael.”

“You disgust me,” Valor muttered, only to hiss at a whack to the head.

“Enough, both of you. I feel I have to babysit the lot of you.” It sounded full of scorn, and even Imperius seemed stunned silent.

“You  _ are _ the eldest-”

“Don't give me that.” Tyrael holds up his armored hands in a placating gesture. Malthael might be the quiet archangel of Wisdom, only speaking when needed and keeping to himself; but he certainly had little patience when it came to petty arguing or childish misconduct. He looks to Valor, still kneeling tidily on the floor, then back to the slender being on the throne.

“...shall I leave?”

“I'm sure Imperius would prefer it, but that is your choice to make.” A nod, and Justice turns to leave. “Satisfied?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He stiffens at a touch, but relaxes again as Malthael pets him, running his slim fingers over the ornate golden helmet. It’s very gentle and he settles down, hands resting in his lap as he enjoys the little deal.

For now, at least.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> choo choo smut train pulling into the gay angels station

He waits rather impatiently, wings lifting and settling again, tapping at the bed softly. The collar feels snug against his neck in a way that sets something off in him. It's not really unpleasant, however different it is to the burning need to fight something.

“Malthael,” he calls, sitting up a bit. Soft footsteps tread in and tutting follows. 

“Ah ah, I told you to keep laying down, Imperius.” The scolding just serves to feed the fire and he stays propped up out of sheer spite. Hands slide under his chin, something connecting to a loop in the leather collar. He growls slightly, and the collar tugs tight to his throat.

“A leash?!” He wheezes, trying to look at Wisdom over his shoulder.

“Yes. It will improve your behavior, I think.” He’d taken on that slow, pensive tone he has, settling against the larger archangel comfortably despite the armor.

“Malthael, this-”

“Is  _ exactly  _ what you want. Don't try to lie to me, Imperius.” It cuts through his argument and he lays back down, going quiet. Those hands nimbly peek around armor, brushing against invisible flesh and teasing over chainmail. “So much armor,” Malthael murmurs, thinking aloud.

“Is it in your way?” He wants to choke himself with how  _ timid _ he sounds. Then again, he always talks quieter in the elder’s presence. 

“Mm, not at all. But it will be.” He winces a bit at the foreboding tone, hoping the uncomfortable apathy the other displays won't end up hurting him. A weight is lifted and he’s urged to stand, the leash hanging down between his wings. Deft touches and movements bring his cloth armor off, then after a moment, the metal around his waist. Wisdom is giving a low, silky sound, one that makes Imperius feel rather weak all of a sudden.

“Please,” he squeezes out, looking away in shame.

“Hm? Please? Please  _ what _ , Imperius?” The smaller sounds endlessly amused by his pitiful weakness, and his head bows in mortification.

“Please  _ me. _ ” That draws a wicked, too-sharp grin out of the elder, one that’s starkly visible even in the impossible, empty black of his hood.

“I thought you'd never ask.” The leash is pulled around to his front and he’s tugged back to the bed after being stripped along his waist, leaving only his hips and groin exposed. It's agitating, watching Malthael adjust his own clothing and armor to settle flesh-to-flesh on his “pet”.

“Mm-mm-” Valor stammers out, not sure whether to call that lovely name or give into his disgusting want to call the smaller his master _. _

“What? Speak up, darling.” Soothing touches to his jaw, and he whispers the word, too ashamed to say it aloud.

“ _ Master. _ ” Wisdom almost takes off, his wings open so fast, and he leans down close.

“Good boy.” It sends scalding heat between Imperius’s legs and he swallows thickly, shifting subtly to press up against those bony hips. Another visible smile, and Malthael swiftly sits on his cock, making him nearly leap from his armor. The sensation is like no other and he reaches to grab those angled hip bones, only to be halted by grips on his wrists.

“Ah ah, I don't think so.  _ I  _ am in charge.” His large hands are pushed up above his head, and carefully tied in place with silken rope that feels pleasant even if it is a restraint--something he hates with quite a passion. The leash is scooped up again, tangled between those beautiful, slender fingers, and pulled _. _ Imperius  _ squeaks _ and obediently rolls his hips up, Wisdom groaning deeply in approval. The leash goes slack as they move, Malthael too distracted to keep it pulled taut. Valor shifts to drive himself deeper, earning another pull to his collar. The elder moans softly, arching and putting his free hand onto that broad chest to lever himself into the thrusts better.

“You love this, don't you? You enjoy letting someone else have the power. You like the punishment, too.” The younger only whimpered in response, tipping his head away in embarrassment as he bucked up into those skinny hips again. It feels so viscerally good and the collar doesn't help, only serving to make the heat twisting in his belly even more delightfully achy. It's been so long since he last bedded anyone and Malthael is  _ quite _ the partner.

“Oh god,” he gasps at the leash being pulled hard, dragging him up into a semi-sitting position. The elder leans in close, breath tickling over his face.

“Can you cum like this, mighty Valor? Can you cum with a leash dragging you into submission?”

“Yes,” he breathes, looping his bound arms around the smaller and hugging him close, hands sneaking to grab the whole of Wisdom’s butt. “Question is, can  _ you _ cum like this? I live to serve and I will have failed if you are not satisfied.” It's a struggle to get all the words out correctly and without interruption, and chokes back a pitiful moan at the jolt Malthael gives.

“Nnh, of course. Isn't hard when I'm so  _ full _ .”


End file.
